


i'll always love you.

by crystallinedewdrops



Category: DCU, The Authority
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drabble Collection, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 19:14:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17648375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystallinedewdrops/pseuds/crystallinedewdrops
Summary: midpollo drabble / prompts collection from tumblr.





	1. daybreaker/kid apollo; "do you promise?"

**Author's Note:**

> i have a weakness for daybreaker/kid apollo. for the prompt "do you promise?"
> 
> unbeta'd so any grammatical mistakes are mine.

They’ve been running for their lives for nearly two years now, making homes out of run down buildings and empty, wrecked shops. They’re careful not to stay in one place for too long, or be around people.

The people who are after them are not the kind of people you’d normally want to be around in the first place, so Daybreaker and Kid Apollo make sure they don’t attract any unwanted attention to themselves.

Not after everything they’ve been through in those two years.

—

“Stupid fucking machine, why wouldn’t it work?!”

He throws down the tools he’s holding and scowls angrily at the pieces of the machine he’s been trying to fix for what seems like hours now. Implants whirring away inside of his brain as he tries to make sense of it, of why this stupid thing won’t work.

Another decrepit house with furnitures that have seen better days, another year on the run. It’s been like this for two years. Kid Apollo had left a while back to get some things to eat, not that they need to or anything but Daybreaker likes to, makes him feel less of a freak of nature.

Daybreaker stares dejectedly at the machine’s parts all around him and sighs, bringing a hand up to rub his temple. Rifles through the papers strewn here and there, full of calculations and equations of how he could fix the damned, old tech that he took apart, and then he goes through all of it again.

If only to distract himself, to stop his mind from reminding him about how he’s made to be the best tactician in the world, the effective and ruthless killing machine.

He throws himself wholeheartedly into the calculations even when he’s gone through it seventy-five times already.

Three hours and no results later, Daybreaker growls in frustration and stands up. He feels a certain pent up energy inside of him, a certain kind that only he knows because it’s something he was trained to do; contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t like to fight, not after all the blood he’s gotten on his hands that won’t ever go away no matter how hard he scrubbed his hands, not after all the bones he’s broken as part of his training. He doesn’t like the way his implants feed him possibilities on how to take someone down, on how to maim and kill, just by looking at a person.

He doesn’t like this at all, and he’s frustrated and the stupid tech won’t be fixed any time soon no matter how hard he tries to and where the fuck is Kid Apollo? He’s been gone for hours!

Daybreaker is pulled out of his thoughts when his brain picks up on the minute changes in the air temperature in the room, and doesn’t need to look to know that Kid Apollo’s finally here. “Where were you?” he asks – demands, more like – instead but the only answer he gets is the sound of plastic bags being placed down on the rickety coffee table, and then hears a very distinct sound that absolutely did not come from Kid Apollo.

That’s when he turns around and looks at the other in disbelief and surprise.

“Please tell me you did not get a kitten.”

Kid Apollo’s sheepish smile says everything. “I couldn’t just let them live in a liter full of dead siblings! And their mother and father weren’t around and they were so scared, Denny,” Kid explains, so sincere and full of hope. The kittens in his arms are still small, the black and grey more noticeably younger than the other orange one. Denny looks at the kittens, then at Kid’s hopeful but sheepish face, then back at the kittens.

“You know we can’t stay in one place for too long.”

“Yes, yes, but we can bring them with us.”

“…how, exactly, are they going to travel with us?”

Kid only shrugs, “I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

“Oh my god.”

(he can never deny Kid anything, not with that hopeful look in his eyes. The very same look that makes something inside of Denny’s heart flutter and constrict and make him feel some weird emotion that he cannot identify.)

–

The kittens aren’t all that bad, actually. If anything it’s fun to watch them stumble and run around.

And it’s nice to see Kid’s laugh and smile.

Denny resolutely doesn’t think about the way the halo around Kid’s head gets brighter every time he smiles.

–

They stay in the house for a few more days before moving to another location. Kid Apollo ended up giving away the kittens to some folks and Denny watched helplessly as the light dimmed in Kid’s eyes.

He doesn’t know how to help him. With all of his implants that can see every scenario from every possible angle and how to counter it, he doesn’t know how to help him. What good is his fucked up brain if he couldn’t help the one person he calls friend?

Stupid.

They’ve stopped in a clearing in the middle of a forest for a break, and Kid Apollo went to do some recon to see if there’s anyone or anything else for miles, leaving Daybreaker all alone.

In the middle of a forest. With his thoughts.

What the hell is up with him lately?

Denny doesn’t think of anything for a while, just stays still and listens to the forest around him. He doesn’t realize that he’s fell asleep until felt a hand touch his shoulder; that’s when, without opening his eyes, he managed to move his body and to throw down the one person he promised himself he’d never hurt.

“Denny!”

Eyes snapping open, Daybreaker stares wide-eyed at Kid Apollo. He manages to stammer out an apology, rubs roughly at the back of his neck as he felt his cheeks heat up. Stupid, stupid, stupid, a mantra repeats in his head, watching as Kid only shrugs it off and says it’s fine, that it only surprised him. Both fall quiet after that, with Kid Apollo gazing at him with an indecipherable look in his eyes.

“There’s a cabin a few ways away from here, near an abandoned mining town. C’mon,” and as if nothing had happened – as if Daybreaker didn’t nearly break a bone of his body with the way he twisted his arm and threw him down – Kid grabs his hand and pulls him along, walking towards where he said the cabin would be.

His hood had fallen, exposing his face and hair to the air around them. Despite the fast pace they’re walking in, his hold is gentle and his hand is warm around Denny’s.

For some reason his eyes started to tear up, blurring his vision, and there’s a lump in his throat. Daybreaker tries to swallow it down, keep it down until they at least arrive at the… the fucking conveniently-placed cabin in the middle of the fucking woods.

He managed to somewhat repress the need to cry, dries his eyes without Kid seeing any of it. Takes a deep breath, holds it in, then releases it.

When they finally arrive to the cabin, Denny’s says, “how convenient,” without his voice breaking or showing anything.

“It’ll work for a while,” still not letting go of his hand, Kid Apollo near-drags him inside. The cabin is all wood and dust, but it will do for now.

Just another day in this mess of a life.

–

There’s fire roaring in the fireplace to keep them warm at night, and the food Kid had bought days ago isn’t expired just yet. Surprisingly, there’s books in the cabin, so Kid got five of them besides him on the floor — the couch isn’t suitable for sitting, what’s with all the tiny bugs inside of it. Some of the blankets are the same but they don’t need them anyway.

With nothing to do but read the books and play some of the board games, they both got bored quickly.

Hours pass in the silence, with them sitting next to each other in front of the fire.

“D?”

Drowsy and tired, Denny only hums in response.

“Do you.. do you think they’ll find us?” Kid Apollo doesn’t need to say who they are.

“Not if we keep moving, staying low as much as possible. They’ll never stop looking for us.” It’s the truth, one they both know. Besides him, Kid shifts a bit then settles.

“…yeah. Started to get headaches just thinking about them,” Kid’s tone is humorous, and when Daybreaker looks from the corner of his eyes, he can see a tiny smile to accompany the tone. It’s odd, really, to joke about the people who are after them.

“Mhmm. Can’t remember the last time I slept peacefully.”

The conversation dies after that.

Kid Apollo is comfortably warm beside him, and Denny can feel his eyelids starting to droop. He lays his head on Kid’s shoulder and closes his eyes, and he can blame the exhaustion for what he’s about to say later.

“'Po?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t leave me,” his voice is small and quiet it’s almost a whisper.

A stunned silence and then, “never.”

There is something in Kid’s voice that does something to Denny, that makes his own voice breaks as he asks, “do you promise?”

“I won’t leave you, I promise. Sleep, I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

And that’s the last thing he remembers, with Po’s warm voice and body.

(safe. he’s safe.)


	2. midpollo; "none of this is your fault."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> apollo is in a bad mental place and needs reassurance from the one person who knows what he's going through better than anyone else.
> 
> for the prompt, "none of this is your fault."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warning** : very heavy implication of rape and unethical experimentations on humans, and there's also a lot of self-loathing and survivor's guilt. this is... really heavy, for the lack of better words.
> 
> you can send me [prompts from this list](https://brownapollo.tumblr.com/post/182258721184/drabble-list-2) (or if you have one that isn't from the list) [here.](brownapollo.tumblr.com/ask)

There are days when the reality of him surviving not only the incident in that underground facility years ago ( sometimes it feels like a distant dream because of how long ago it is ), but also being alive and managing to escape and free himself from Henry Bendix, and surviving that assault by The Commander — it all hits Apollo harder than a bullet train and leaves him shaking, barely holding himself together.

Those days always the hardest for Apollo. Because it’s during those days that it everything that happened to him feels like it’s his fault, all of it: letting his teammates die while he was helpless and powerless, how he ran away from it all for five years instead of confronting Bendix, and how he shouldn’t have been low on power because then perhaps that violation wouldn’t have happened to him.

A part of him knows that it isn’t his fault, none of it is, but that part is small compared to the guilt and self-loathing.

Sometimes, during those days, he just wants to pretend that he is fine because it’s better than letting his thoughts swallow him, drown him in the turmoil of emotions.

Pretending is safer, for himself and for everyone else.

The heavy footfalls snaps him out of his reverie and Apollo looks towards the source, only to find it’s Midnighter. The room they are in is homey, to say the least, with a fireplace right in front of them, beige rug and soft red couches around it. It’s spacious too, like any other room on The Carrier.

It’s one of his favourite spots to get away from everything.

“Penny for your thoughts?” midnighter all but throws himself onto the couch and puts his booted feet on top of the table, somehow making all of the movements graceful and fluid. His voice, presence, is a welcoming distraction from Apollo’s thoughts and guilt.

Sighing and letting his lips curl into a smile, Apollo replied, “if you can afford that, maybe I'll tell you.”

“I think I got some around,” Midnighter takes of the mask and throws it unceremoniously on the table; there is an identical smile on his face to Apollo’s own.

Apollo watches as Midnighter stretches his arms up then places them casually across the back of the couch. If he didn’t know any better… Apollo shakes his head and shuffles closer to m, letting the man curl an arm around his shoulders.

“Are they enough for my thoughts?”

“Maybe, haven’t counted them yet.”

“Maybe you should get started on that, then.”

Their banter went on for a few more minutes before both of them fell silent.

In the silence, Apollo’s turbulent thoughts returned. He knows that Midnighter won’t push him to talk about what’s on his mind, but he also knows that midnighter won’t shut him out either. The man is empathic and sensitive, despite popular belief that he is neither of these things.

“I can’t stop thinking about it.” The arm around his shoulders tightens, bringing him that bit closer to M. It’s an answer, in a very specific way.

Apollo tells him everything that’s been plaguing him. About wanting to go back in time to burn The Commander all over again, with the asshole’s blood coating his hands; about being alone in a room with the man who played with his genetics and body, flaying The Surgeon alive after taking him apart; about saving his — their — old team, what if it could have made a difference.

About his guilt, his nightmares that have been keeping him awake at night more and more often than not. About the violent daydreams he keeps having.

Apollo hides nothing. He bares his soul to the one man who, he knows, won’t ever turn him away, or leave him. And in the silence that follows, Apollo only hears both of their heartbeats, in sync.

He focuses on that.

Midnighter turns his head and kisses his temple, voice soft and  _so_ gentle: “none of this is your fault.”

Apollo closes his eyes, takes a deep breath then releases it.

“It’s hard not to blame myself for it.”

“I know, but it was never your fault.”

Apollo doesn’t need a life-changing advice. Sometimes, all he needs to hear is to hear that it was never his fault what happened to him.

Sometimes, all he needs is for someone to hold him as tightly as Midnighter is doing right now, with lips kissing his temple and head and traveling down as a hand turns his head towards Midnighter.

Shifting so that they’re turned towards each other, Midnighter cradles his face in his hands. Resting their foreheads together, Midnighter looks right into his eyes — and God knows what he finds there — and says, “you know that, don’t you?” Apollo gives a nod because it is the truth after all, or at least a part of him does.

“Then it isn’t.”

“Hard to remember that, sometimes.”

Their voices are quiet, laden with heavy emotions and hidden fears, even though there is no one around them, as if they get any louder than this then someone might overhear.

“I know.” Somehow, that word alone manages to say a thousand unsaid things. Even quieter, Midnighter’s usually smooth voice is even more emotional now, “I  _know_.”

Bringing a hand up, Apollo wrapped his fingers around one of Midnighter’s wrists.

breath in, out, in, and out until he’s calmer than before. Lets the reassurances of his lover wash over him, and repeats in his head what Midnighter told him.

“Thank you.”

Midnighter only kisses him as a reply. It’s soft, chaste, but he pours what he feels into it.

_I'll always be here for you, I’ll always help you._

“No need to. Wanna watch something?”

“Sure, so long as it’s not some overrated, terrible romcom.”

“You know those ones are the best.”


End file.
